


Snape's Mantra

by Jadzia7667



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, M/M, Romance, Sexual Content, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-14
Updated: 2005-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-28 02:04:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10065257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jadzia7667/pseuds/Jadzia7667
Summary: A glimpse into a dysfunctional, yet working relationship.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HP Fandom](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HP_Fandom_\(archive\)), which was closed for health and financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HP Fandom collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hpfandom/profile).

Title: Snape’s Mantra  
Pairing: Snarry  
Rating: R, perhaps  
Disclaimer: Not mine, they’re JKR’s, of course.  
A/N: Thanks to Laura, as always; in this case, for the idea and the beta.  
Summary: A glimpse into a rather dysfunctional relationship.

Snape’s Mantra

Just give up, and admit you're an asshole;  
You would be in some good company.  
And I think you'd find that your friends would forgive you,  
Or maybe I am just speaking for me...  
And I've got no illusions about you --  
Guess what? I never did.  
When I said, "I'll take it,"  
I meant, I meant As Is.  
**-Ani Difranco, "As Is"**

 

The burning itch behind his eyes did not mean he was going to cry, or even that he wanted to. It simply meant that he’d been studying too hard. He needed a nap, or something along those lines. Perhaps he should join a study group; that might take some of the stress away. He might be better able to cope with his husband’s verbal assaults if he were less stressed out. 

Harry turned himself slightly against the bathroom door and huddled there, thoroughly miserable and unable to do a thing about it. He’d known what he was getting into when he’d chosen to marry this difficult man. He’d known their life together wouldn’t be easy and that Severus wouldn’t change simply because they were married. He’d known that falling in love with Severus wasn’t the smartest thing he’d ever done. On the surface, they were remarkably unsuited for one another; indeed, for long term commitment at all.

Harry reached out with his senses. Snape was still standing on the other side of the door, patiently waiting for Harry to come out, so they could make up and get on with things. Harry knew the other man had already adopted a penitent’s posture, was already sorry for the things he’d said. Most of the time, that was acceptable. Sometimes, it wasn’t enough. Sometimes Harry needed time to himself, to lick his wounds in peace. Damn. No peace, no solitude. He couldn’t even sulk without the man stalking him. Silently, Harry thanked Merlin for bathroom doors that locked.

It wasn’t reasonable to expect him not to sulk. It took so much bloody effort to love this man. Harry had never realized that loving someone was as much a conscious decision as anything else. He’d been led by his hormones at first; the darkly compelling sexiness of his spouse had driven him to find out more about the man beneath the multitude of masks he wore. A less damaged man might have run, far and fast, when exposed to the innermost layers of one Severus Snape. Instead, Harry dug his heels in and stayed, recognizing the chasms in Severus’ soul that mirrored his own.

They were more alike than different, at the core of things. Both had been heavily damaged in childhood by unfeeling caretakers and impossible expectations. Neither of them trusted easily or often, having been humiliated for it more than once. Both had been profoundly betrayed by those who claimed to care for them. Both had been ruthlessly manipulated for a perceived greater purpose. Harry still wondered if that greater purpose was valid or not, despite the fact that he’d fulfilled Dumbledore’s expectations, finally.

Both had seen far too much darkness to ever be completely comfortable in the light. Both had done unspeakable things in order to accomplish goals set for them by others. Snape sought respect, even from those he despised for their ignorance. He feared rejection, and took great pains to protect himself from it. He wanted acceptance but he would never admit it, even to himself. Harry sought acceptance, belonging, normality. He wanted to be seen for the individual person his was, not what he had accomplished. He wanted to make a difference and he feared that he never would. Neither had ever felt truly a part of the world around them, until they began to function as a unit.

Harry knew that Severus pushed him away as a matter of habit. He verbally attacked before he could be attacked, and he always expected to be attacked. Harry understood his spouse; that didn’t mean he had to like Severus’ coping mechanisms. Even now, years into their marriage, Severus still expected to wake up one morning and find Harry gone. Harry still woke up some days fully expecting Severus to tell him to leave. Neither of them was particularly effective at expressing their feelings verbally. Yet Harry knew how much Severus loved him, had always loved him. Severus knew how much Harry loved him in return, because Harry did what no one else ever had. Harry stayed. 

Harry knew that Severus loved him. Had he not, Harry would not now be clutching a battered piece of parchment, and re reading the contents, willing the words to soothe his battered heart. Harry knew what it had cost Severus to write the words, to open himself up even that far. That single love letter was Harry’s most valued possession. A simple parchment, but it was the glue that held their marriage together.

Harry read it again.

_My dearest Harry,_

_I am not the most emotionally stable of men. I am petty and cruel, vindictive and malicious when threatened. That the threat is often perceived and not based in reality is immaterial. Jealousy and possessiveness are part of my nature; it will always be so._

_Tomorrow morning, we are to pledge our eternal commitment to one another in a mawkish display of sentiment that I would rather avoid. I would not have consented to a public marriage bonding if I did not love with you all my being._

_Never did I expect to find another person who accepts me entirely as I am. You do, and for that I am grateful. Surprised, perhaps, but grateful. You are, and always will be, the most important person in my life. You have never attempted to ‘improve’ my nature, my habits, or my methods of interacting with others._

_You deserve a life and a love that is more nurturing than I can provide you. I am thankful that you do not seem to want anything I cannot give you. I am thankful that you know me as well as I know myself._

_I am certain that I will anger you, hurt you, make you question your decision to remain at my side forevermore. On such occasions, I ask you to remember this:_

_I love you. With everything that I am, I love you. I regret the fact that I am often insensitive and that I treat you more carelessly than you deserve. It is not intentional. I apologize most profoundly for my lack of ability to demonstrate to you how much I care for you. I apologize, in advance, for all the harsh words and hurtful actions I have and will perpetrate upon your person. Given the opportunity, I will balance the scales in the only way I am able._

_We have always been able to communicate most freely when we are physically pleasuring one another. Know now that you have the power to stir my senses more deeply than anyone else ever has or ever will be able to do. Know now that I treasure our most intimate moments and guard them carefully. Know now that every time we make love, I will be apologizing for being the emotionally stunted bastard that I am._

_Your forgiveness is the only thing that matters to me, in the long run. Your love is the only thing that was able to save me from the desperate choices of a misspent youth. You are the only person that matters to me, and you always will be the only person I am able to share myself with._

_I regret hurting you, even as I am caught up in doing so. I will demonstrate to you how much I regret it, every time you allow me to do so. I belong to you, and you belong to me, and I do not ever want to be without you._

_Your Severus_

Harry read the words again, and a weight lifted from his heart. He knew Severus didn’t mean to treat him shabbily. It was a defense mechanism; more a habit than anything else. He knew the man loved him. Anytime he began to question that, he pulled out his parchment and let the words sink into his soul again. 

He carefully folded the parchment back up and placed it in the pocket of his robes. Harry stood, stretched and unlocked the bathroom door. He opened it cautiously. The tall, dark and dour figure of his spouse stood there, head bowed, shoulders tense. Severus looked up when Harry stepped over the threshold. He held his arms open and Harry stepped into them.

Their embrace was fierce and tender, angry and loving. It was harsh and passionate, adoring and reverent. Harry tipped his face up for a kiss and was lost in the maelstrom of intense passion that only Severus could evoke within him. He wrapped his arms around Severus’ waist and pulled him gently towards the bedroom. 

“I’m sorry.” The words were whispered hoarsely against Harry’s throat. The body in Harry’s arms shuddered with need and remorse.

“I know. It’s all right.” Harry stroked his hands over Severus’ back, soothing the coiled tension out of the bunched muscles. The harsh words from earlier that were echoing in Harry’s brain instantly melted away, replaced with arousal and an urgent need to reaffirm their bond.

“I love you,” Severus mumbled into Harry’s mouth as he leaned down to kiss his beloved again. 

Harry sucked his tongue delicately, then pulled back long enough to reply, “I love you too.”

Severus held Harry close as Harry led him inexorably to his ultimate atonement. Hands moved over Harry’s skin in a familiar pattern of ardor. What Severus could not say in words, Harry understood quite well in the language of sex.

They tumbled to the bed, Severus’ fingers quickly divesting both of them of their garments. Lips and tongue, fingers, hands and heavy erection moved worshipfully over and into the body of his husband. In the act of lovemaking Harry felt the words Severus could never say, could in fact barely write down once. 

_I love you. I’m sorry I hurt you. I don’t intend to. You’re the only joy in my life._

Harry lay back against the pillows and spread his legs wider for his husband. He let the remorse wash over him, a healing balm for his soul. He let Severus set the pace, stoking the fires of their need ever higher. At the moment of their mutual climax, Harry cried out Severus’ name. 

Severus groaned his pleasure, “I love you, my Harry.” Gripped in the throes of his release, he was able to infuse the words with the depth of emotion he felt, but was so rarely able to express.

Sated, content, and at peace with one another again, the two lovers twined easily, pulled up the covers and drifted off to sleep.


End file.
